


Something Old

by Lapin



Series: Bridal Veil [3]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Brothers, M/M, Marriage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-22
Updated: 2013-09-26
Packaged: 2017-12-15 17:58:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/852399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lapin/pseuds/Lapin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The marriage of Nori and Dwalin. What it was, what is is, and what it could be one day. </p><p>Sometimes just being each others One is not enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N Before we get started
> 
> WARNINGS: There is mention of attempted rape, in very vague details and mentions of what could constitute as spousal abuse. The two are separate situations. 
> 
> Now. Yes. I like this. It took me around fifteen false starts, but I like this. And if you hate all the errors, I'm sure my beta will get to this with a lot of head shaking and fix it all.

Nori steps back from the loom, and rubs at his tired eyes. His back aches something fierce, but he's accomplished a good bit of weaving for the day.

The wool he's using is the finest he's ever had to work with; cashmere wool, dyed in shades of blue and grey and green and a soft violet. He's weaving a pattern of lavender into the blanket, for luck. Nothing a new marriage needs more than luck, in his opinion. Of course, there's a bit of ivy along the border too, just in case. Nori likes to prepare for just-in-cases. 

It'll be very fine, when it's done. It's the last of the pieces for his wedding gift to Ori and Fíli, and once it's finished, Dori will get off his back about it. Their eldest brother has been beside himself with panic ever since Nori casually pointed out that they were now four months away from the blessed event. Dori had woven more in the past four months than he had in years, and though he's not Nori, more a knitter than anything, between the pair of them they've piled a respectable wedding payment between them. A complete set of bedclothes, blankets to keep them warm through the most fell winter, and a rug for their floor. 

They've done their duty, as far as Nori's concerned, but he knows Dori is working on a little something extra to slip into the pile. He hasn't revealed it to Nori yet, but Nori must admit to some curiousity. He hates not knowing things. It picks at him until it drives him mad. 

He needs a drink, he decides, and uncorks a bottle of wine he'd left here in his private rooms for this exact purpose. Once he's settled back with it in his chair, he eyes his work with a pleased eye. It's good. It's very good.

There's a knock, and before he can answer the door, Dwalin is standing in his workroom. 

Nori sneers. 

“Who let you in?”

Dwalin could be carved from stone, the way he looks at Nori. “Your butler,” he answers. “He even showed me up here. Very cleverly hidden in the house, your rooms.” 

“Yes,” Nori drawls. “They are. Good luck finding your way out.” 

Dwalin scowls. “I'm not in the mood for your games, Nori.” 

“I'm not playing any game, Dwalin. Get out. If I want you here, you'll know.” He downs the glass in a shamefully rude way, then pours himself another. “Now out. I was having a good evening, and I'd like to get back to it, if you don't mind.” 

But his luck has never held with Dwalin. The big Dwarf only comes further into the room, and every step he takes into Nori's territory puts Nori's hackles up. He wants him out. This is Nori's space, and he won't have Dwalin infecting it. 

“The wedding is in less than a month,” Dwalin says, as though Nori does not know. “And Balin has made it very clear I cannot stand alone.” 

“So stand beside your brother,” Nori replies nastily. 

“Nori, for once in your life -”

Nori's lips twist in a sneer that even he can't make look attractive, but he does not care. He is long past wanting to impress Dwalin. “Get out,” he orders. “Don't come into my home making demands of me. You forfeited that right. You were _glad_ to forfeit that right, if I recall right.” 

“We're still married, Nori!” Dwalin shouts, and Nori can't stand his arrogance. How dare he come into Nori's home, how dare he throw that in Nori's face? As though it can be helped? As though Nori wants this?

“Only because your stubborn brother won't grant the divorce!” He shouts back, getting to his feet. “If Balin thinks I'll stand with you, that old goat has finally lost his mind! Now get out of my house!”

Dwalin is quick to grab him, and Nori is even quicker to kick. But Dwalin, as always, has him at a disadvantage, and Nori finds himself pinned against the wall, face pressed to the stone. It bears a striking resemblance to being arrested. Nori's not felt it in awhile. The first time, he'd been young, and he'd fought. He'd gotten a boot to his ribs for his trouble.

Nori does not struggle though, not this time. No, this time, he slumps against the wall and waits. Dwalin only keeps him pinned for another moment before releasing him and putting distance between them. 

“'That was out of line,” Dwalin rumbles. “Apologies. I should not have touched you in anger.”

“And yet, you keep doing it,” Nori says, turning to face him. “Tell your brother his choice is to either grant the divorce, or deal with the whispers. I will not stand beside you and lie to the whole kingdom, let them believe all is well in your _honourable_ house. A little bit of scandal always livens things up, in my experience.” 

Dwalin frowns. “You would have scandal at your own brother's wedding?”

Nori shrugs carelessly. His heart is still thudding too hard in his chest from their fight, his body responding instinctively to the touch of his One, after so long. “Ori would likely appreciate the attention being taken off of him,” Nori says, knowing it to be true. 

There's a moment of silence between them. They occur often, so Nori lets it stand without bothering to try and break it. His wine glass is lying on the carpet, thankfully already emptied. He scoops it up now and pours yet another glass, knocking it back like spirits instead of savouring it, then pours a fourth. He wants to be drunk now, not just tipsy. He wants to be drunk and forget he was ever young and foolish and in love.

“You were so self-righteous about Dori keeping Fíli and Ori apart,” Nori says, his head still clear. He hopes it hits him soon. Very soon. “Do you know why he did? What his real reason was?” 

Dwalin looks at him. Nori takes it as assent. 

“Because he wanted to protect Ori from turning out like me.” Nori sounds almost gleeful to his own ears, the warmth finally starting to flood into his bones. “Used and discarded by Durin's line. Stuck with someone he hates for the rest of his life.” 

It's a low blow to deal, but it gets the desired effect. Dwalin turns cold and stony again. 

“I'll tell Balin,” he says. “Enjoy your evening, Nori.” 

“Go to the stones,” Nori shoots back. 

His door slams so hard it shakes the paintings on the wall. Nori stares at the door for a minute before throwing back this glass of wine too. It's terrible, and it makes him feel ill, but he's starting to feel the pleasant buzz of the alcohol now. 

It's not pleasant enough to keep him from breaking down in the middle of his workroom, falling to his knees and resting his head against the chair he'd been so happily sprawled in before Dwalin felt the need to come in and remind Nori of everything he'd rather forget. His angry gasps turn into something far too close to tears, as his traitorous heart reminds him of everything, of all his pain and torment over these long years. 

He hates himself, hates his heart and how it ties him to Dwalin, how it cries out for Dwalin even now, when he convinces himself he hates Dwalin. Even in his darkest moments, he wants him, his One, the only one his heart will ever love. 

He stays like that until the door opens and someone touches his shoulder; Dori.

“I hate him,” Nori says, and Dori does not ask who Nori means nor does he admonish Nori. He gathers Nori up in his arms and holds him close until he's got himself back under control.

Then, with careful fingers, Dori takes out Nori's braids, even his eyebrows, until all his titian hair hangs loose. He produces a comb from somewhere, and begins the arduous process of untangling it all. It's a soothing gesture, a remnant of his childhood that he's never managed to let go of. Anytime he's upset, or frightened, or lonely, he wants Dori to brush his hair. 

At some point, the door opens again, and he opens his eyes to Ori sitting beside them. He strokes Nori's arm like he used to when he was a child sitting beside them in front of the fire in their tiny home in Ered Luin. He looks too old to Nori, too adult. 

“You're getting married,” Nori says aloud, and Ori nods. 

“I am,” he replies. 

“I'm glad,” Nori says, and closes his eyes again, nestling further into Dori's lap. His elder brother is the only one who has ever managed to ease all his pain in this world. The worst years of his life had been when Dori hadn't wanted him around because of Ori, and how Nori might influence him. Dori had been in the right, no matter the pain it caused them all, and when Dori had broken and allowed him back, Nori had thought it was the wrong decision. He wasn't worth a tin clasp, and he'd known it. 

Yet when Dori let him come home at last, he had not hesitated, had come home and rocked Ori in his arms while he placed his own head in Dori's lap and let Dori brush his hair. And he had wept, he would admit. He had wept in his elder's brother's lap and allowed Dori to kiss his brow while he held little Ori against his chest. He had wept, and never again had Dori cast him out of their family home, away from their hearth and the only place where he was safe and cherished, no matter how much they fought.

When it occurs to him, he says, “Fíli will take care of your heart. He will not hurt you.” Nori's made enough threats and interrogated the lad enough to know he loves Ori with his whole heart, and unlike Dwalin, Fíli's love is sure enough to weather the bad things that will inevitably come. 

“I know,” Ori says. “I know.” 

Nori smiles up at him and falls asleep like that in Dori's lap. 

He wakes in his bed with a well-deserved headache and decides he has no desire to get out of his bed. Instead, he spends the morning in his chambers, taking a bath in the dark and commanding mint tea from his bed. He's the worst sort for this kind of lifestyle, really. Dori was made to run a household, and Nori doubts Ori even remembers they have servants in the house most of the time. But Nori, Nori has had a spoiled child lurking beneath the surface all this time, and gold has done nothing good for it. 

His sulking is ruined by Braur, the head of the household. He's Dori's little spy, and Nori in turns hates and depends upon him completely.

For now, it's hate. 

“Master Nori, you have to eat something,” Braur commands in an imperious way that reminds Nori far too much of Dori to be healthy. “You were drinking again, and you know how your stomach gets. Master Dori said I was to get you to eat today, and you will eat.” 

“Dori is not the boss of me,” Nori says, waving a dismissive hand. 

“No, but he's the boss of me,” Braur replies curtly. “Now, Cook made you a lovely stew with carrots. You love carrots and it'll do wonders for your stomach.” 

Nori frowns. “Stop talking to me like I'm a child.” 

“Stop acting like a child then,” Braur says calmly. “You're being ridiculous. I've already had to send Bofur away today because you won't see anyone, _again_ , and Master Dwalin was very upset when I wouldn't let him in -”

“Dwalin was here?” Nori asks, snapping out of his admittedly childish bad mood. “He was at our door?” 

“Well, yes,” Braur says, placing the bowl of stew in front of Nori at his tea table. He pours Nori another glass of tea while Nori pokes listlessly at his food. He does need to eat, but he doesn't want stew, or really anything at all. He wants to sulk and feel sorry for himself. Damn Braur. Damn Dori hiring help who wouldn't shy away from Nori's notoriously artistic temperament. Damn everything. 

Damn Dwalin especially. 

“Did he say why he was here?” Nori asks, giving in and eating. Dori will fuss if Nori doesn't eat, and he's not in the mood now. His headache hasn't abated throughout the day, and Dori shouts when he's frustrated with Nori and his ways. 

Braur shrugs as he begins to tidy up Nori's bed. “He only said he wanted to discuss the arrangement the two of you have,” he says. “He seemed very upset, that's why I didn't allow him up. You were already in a strop, I didn't want you and him having another screaming match.” 

“We were not screaming,” Nori refutes hotly. “We were having a discussion.” 

“Well, unless you want the whole household to know just what that arrangement the two of you have is, you might want to discuss things more quietly next time,” Braur says. “Master Nori, I know -”

“You know nothing.” Nori's only eaten half the soup, but he no longer cares. “Have tea brought to my workroom. I want to finish my marriage payment this week.” 

Braur frowns, but says nothing in protest. He knows it's not his place. Instead, he asks, “Do you want me to braid your hair up?” Nori had only put his hair and beard in rest braids after his bath, and now he idly twirls the end of of the fishtail he has his hair in. He has no plans to leave the house today. For one, the light is too bright. 

“No,” he says. “Tell Dori I ate.”

“I'm not lying to him,” Braur protests. “He'll be cross with me for days if I do.” 

Nori huffs in frustration. “Then tell him whatever you like.” 

“Yes, Master Nori.” Bless Braur's beard, he knows when it's time to be quiet and do as he's told. 

In his workroom, the blanket on the loom sits, unfinished. Lavender for luck, and ivy for fidelity. Cashmere wool for rich blessings. Blue for Fíli's house, violet for their own. Blue for marriage blessings too, violet for sweet words. Green for growth, grey for understanding. Woven with the 'Ri signature weave, for familial blessings from their house. 

Nori runs his fingertips over the finished parts, and wishes with all his heart that he can give Ori more than he ever had. 

He sits at his loom and starts his work. 

By the time Dori comes home and finds him, Nori's finished at last, and his last gift for Ori and Fíli sits folded in the basket. Dori of course looks it over, but there's only admiration in his face as he inspects the weave. 

“He'll love it,” Dori says. “We've done well by him.” 

“I suppose,” Nori replies, and offers Dori a cup of tea. His elder brother accepts, not that Dori's ever turned down a cup of tea in his life. “Have you finished your mysterious little present yet? I want to see.”

“Of course you do,” Dori clucks. “You're such a impatient child.” 

“I'm not a child anymore,” Nori reminds him. “And nor is our little brother. He's getting married. To the crown prince, of all people. My, I do believe the 'Ri have moved back up in the world.” 

Dori raises his eyebrows. “Your marriage already moved us up in the world, if you would only acknowledge it.”

Nori sneers, and swirls his tea in the cup. “I would sooner cut my hair.” 

“I know,” Dori says, without much judgment. “But I had a most unfortunate conversation with Balin today on the subject.”

“Why unfortunate?”

Now it's Dori who sneers. “Any conversation I'm forced to hold with that family is unfortunate.” 

“Careful, brother-mine,” Nori teases. “That's my elder brother you're speaking of.” Dori bristles at the very idea, and Nori chuckles into his tea. Dori never fails to be offended at the notion that Nori has any brothers but Dori and Ori, and the idea that _Balin_ of all Dwarrows has that technical legal right to Nori has led to Dori breaking more than one teacup over the years. “What did he have to say?”

“Only that he would not have the shame of divorce hanging over their heads, nor would he have the scandal of Dwalin's own husband not standing with him at a royal wedding.” Dori sounds suitably unimpressed with Balin's arrogance in assuming he had the right to dictate Nori's behaviour. After all, that's Dori's job, Nori thinks with a sly smile, and he had never been successful either. “He won't back down, Nori. Honestly, you couldn't have married into a reasonable family, could you?”

Nori raises an eyebrow. “Do you remember your wife?” he asks. “Because I remember her throwing a teapot at your head.” 

“One time,” Dori says, holding up a finger. “And she was understandably irrational at the time.” 

_Oh_ , Nori admonishes himself. _Well done_. He'd forgotten that part of the story, that she had already been with child by then. “She was usually irrational,” he says, and ignores the way his throat tightens. She had been his sister as well as Dori's wife, and he had loved her deeply. Ori had not yet been born when she died, and Nori suspects it was only Ori's birth and subsequent care that had kept Dori sane in that time. 

Ori had truly been a blessing on their house, a boon to the both of them. Someone who needed them, who kept them occupied, who adored the pair of them. He had been such a sweet child, more so than either of them had ever been, content to sit at their feet with his drawings while they worked at their looms or knitting, and later with his books. Nori had told him the stories he was weaving as he made the tapestries, and Ori had listened with wide eyes to every tale.

He'd loved those epics.

And now Ori had his very own epic, where he marries the prince and hopefully lives happily for the rest of his days. 

He'd better be happy, or Nori would have Fíli's braids. 

“I won't stand with him,” Nori insists. “I can't, Dori. I can't do it.” 

“I'm not asking you to,” Dori says. “Only that you behave better with Dwalin. Him storming out of the house like that for all to see is the last thing we need right now. I'm not saying you don't have the right to hate him for what he did, because Mahal knows you do, but I will ask that you let there be peace between the pair of you for Ori's sake, at least until after the wedding.” 

Nori sighs, and looks at nothing. “If that's what you want,” he says. 

“It is,” Dori says with a nod. “Thank you, little brother.” 

Nori shrugs.

The days leading up to the wedding mean the tension in the household tightens until it feels like it might snap. It's not just Nori's marriage pulling the cords either; the proper respects must be paid to Hasir, and though Ori never knew her, Nori sees how heavy the weight sits on his shoulders as his little brother kneels before her tomb. She had died in Ered Luin, but Dori's put her name in the 'Ri stones here, hers and the babe's. 

Ori kneels with Fíli before the stones, and they make the proper offerings, like they've done before Fíli's father. It's an oddly somber moment in the middle of the usual festivities, but it has to be done. They have to pay respects to the dead as well as the living, no matter how much pain it might cause Dori and Nori to remember her, and the unnamed one that went with her. 

The respects paid to Glori don't last as long. There's little they can say to her beyond the traditional words. She died when Ori was still in his crib, and neither Dori nor Nori had been particularly close to her at the end. Truthfully, they could not have Ori pay respects to his father not because he was still living, but because they had no idea who he might be. 

Still, Ori says the traditional words and that's more than Nori had done. 

Nori thinks now if he had actually asked for permission to be married, and been refused, like his mother surely would have, he could have been saved a lot of trouble. 

When they all make the walk home, Nori walks beside Dwalin, because that's how things are done. Fíli and Ori walk together, followed by Dís and Dori, then Thorin and Bilbo, and Nori and Dwalin. Kíli thankfully trails behind, with Glóin's son, Gimli. They make jokes the whole way, and Nori takes pleasure in adding his own commentary as they walk, keeping his distance from Dwalin, as much as he can and still be proper. 

Dwalin is less than pleased by Nori's lack of enthusiasm, but he does not push his luck either. Nori suspects he understands that Nori is not behaving for his sake, but out of love for his brothers. Nori would do anything for them.

Dwalin knows that, if he knows anything about Nori still. 

The days fly by, as they do when every day is filled with work. Nori tries to get as much time in with Ori as he can, enjoying his company while he's still theirs. After the wedding, Ori will join Fíli's house. Theirs is the lesser branch, after all, and Fíli is Thorin's heir. He'll still be their little brother, of course, but even though he seems to think nothing will change, both Dori and Nori know how untrue that is. 

A marriage changes everything. 

So when Ori joins him in his workroom with just a handful of days left, Nori does not have one of his usual fits about being disturbed. 

Ori sits at his feet, like he did when he was a child, and Dori and Nori would take him with them to the guild house while they worked. They hadn't been able to afford care or looms of their own, but thankfully, Ori had been so quiet. Nori had always felt so proud when others noticed Ori, when they complimented his good manners and sweet nature. 

“What are you weaving?” Ori asks, like he did when he was small. 

Nori throws the shuttle, and hums. “A new tale,” he says. “About a group of Dwarrows trekking across Middle Earth to reclaim their home.”

“Our tale,” Ori says, and Nori hears the smile. 

“Yes,” he confirms. 

“Nori, do you think I'm making the right choice?” Ori asks, after a time. “Marrying Fíli?” 

“I think Fíli loves you very much, and you love Fíli. I think you're both old enough, and you know each other well enough, to make that love into something unbreakable without regretting it.” Nori glances down, and sees how Ori is frowning. “What happened between me and Dwalin has nothing to do with you and Fíli. You don't need to worry about history repeating itself. Not that particular history at least.” 

Ori says nothing for a few minutes, and Nori hopes that'll be the end of it, but then Ori asks, “What happened?”

Nori does not answer right away, but he intends to. Ori is old enough now. It's time he knew that particular tale. For a moment though, he gathers his thoughts up, remembering the details and the sequence of the events that led to all of this. When he's sure he has it all together, he says, “You know there were times I had to do things for this family. Things we don't talk about.”

“Because of Mother's debts,” Ori says dully. 

“Yes, and not only hers. Her brother, Tori, he owed a lot of money to the guild, same as Mother. More, even. The guild threatened to suspend us until the debts were paid, and we would not be able to work if we were not paid up with the guild. So, I put some things I learned from my own da and his lot to use, and I got us the money.” It had been a complicated situation, and Nori's still unsure about how he feels about some of the things he had to do. But they had been for his brothers, and Nori really will do anything for his family. “It was mostly just plain thieving at first, but as the guild became more persistent, I worked with other sorts too. Dori was worried I would get you hurt, so I kept away, for as long as I could. That's when I left Ered Luin the first time.” 

“Dori always told me you were traveling,” Ori says, and Nori nods.

“I was. It was easier to be a thief if I was gone the next day. At that point, I wasn't just stealing anymore. It was not a time in my life I'm particularly proud of, Ori. But I got our debts paid, and I got you and Dori set up somewhat comfortably. The two of us, we did our best, you know. The best we could.” He sees Ori nod, and it lessens some of his worry. “You were very young, when I came home again. When I met Dwalin.”

“I remember him, you know.” Ori has begun to play with a loose thread in his gloves, pulling at it. Nori thinks to tell Dori to knit him a new pair soon. “He used to come by the house, and he would play with me. I thought he was a giant.” 

“He adored you, and you him,” Nori says, and despite everything, the memory is fond. He had been so happy, to see how Ori had loved Dwalin, how Dwalin had handled his precious little brother so carefully in his huge hands. He had never loved Dwalin more than he did in those times. “He still adores you, you know. It hurts him to have to keep his distance.” And maybe Nori does feel guilty for that. Ori had needed every adult he could get in his life, and Dwalin would not have been a bad influence for him. 

Dwalin had at least done his duty by Dori and Ori while he and Nori were estranged. He had watched over them and their house, kept away the ones who might try to hurt Ori, or bully Dori into something. 

“After Dwalin and I were married, things were alright, for a time. Not a very long time, though. I had never told Dwalin what had happened, what I had done. Never. The only person I ever trusted with any information was Dori, and even then, I told him as little as I could to keep him safe, in case I was caught.” This is where their story twisted and snarled into a knot even Dori couldn't pick apart, and it puts a stab of pain in Nori's chest to think about it. “One day, someone I used to run jobs with was caught. My name came up, as a ploy for leniency, most likely. He tried to blackmail Dwalin with the information.” 

He still remembers Dwalin coming into their home, grabbing Nori by his arm and forcing him to his feet. He had been working on a hand loom, and it had hit the floor, the wood cracking on the stone floor. Nori had been furious until he looked into Dwalin's eyes and saw something that had frightened him to his core: _disgust_. 

“He told Dwalin just enough that Dwalin could put the pieces together. When Dwalin confronted me, I didn't bother lying. I told him the truth. He was so angry. I had never been afraid of him until that night. He did not lay hands on me, but I think it was a near thing.” 

“What happened? To the one who outed you?” Ori is very quiet, and there is only the sound of the loom as Nori considers his answer. 

“I did not ask,” he says. “The things he was convicted of were very...he and I had never had love between us. We had come to blows more than once.” That's not entirely true. It had not been blows they had come to, it had been that Dwarf crawling into Nori's bedroll one night and holding him down. It had only been Nori's trade that had saved him that night. He had kept his needles wrapped in leather and bound to his forearm to keep them safe. He had slid one out in the struggle and stabbed the other Dwarf in the cheek with it. 

After that, Nori had started to carry knives in that place as well, practicing pulling them out with the dexterity hammered into every one of his bones by years spent on needlework. 

Ori does not need to know that part of the story though. 

“He was in trouble with more than the law, Ori,” Nori says gravely. “If it had not been for me, it would have been for another. He never would have lasted a week in prison.” 

“And you and Dwalin?” Ori puts the story back on track, and Nori sighs. 

“Dwalin and I quarreled over it, and one night Dwalin said something that could not be taken back. He called me oath-breaker, and told me he would never again trust me. He told me he meant to dissolve our marriage.” His voice is steady, but the pain is still fresh within, the memory of Dwalin telling him he no longer trusted Nori, no longer wanted Nori. Nori was not good enough for him. Nori was nothing. “I would have endured many things for love of him, but not that. He left for the guard house that night, intending to sleep there, I suppose. I took my things out of that house that night, and came back home.” 

Ori is looking at him, but Nori cannot meet his eyes now. 

“Dwalin's temper eventually cooled, and he thought that he could come to our family home, and I would return with him.” Nori's heart had raced at the sight of Dwalin at the door, and yes, he had considered it. He had wanted so badly to return to their home, to Dwalin. But the words Dwalin had spoken, and the way he had grabbed Nori that night, those things could not be forgotten. “I told him Dori would sign on the dissolution, but he would have to convince Balin himself. Balin is so traditional. He always has been. I didn't want to deal with him.” 

“What did Dwalin do?” 

“He kept trying. I don't think he's ever understood just how badly he frightened me that night, how much he hurt me over those days.” Nori's hands are steady on the loom, as always, even now, in the depths of one of his worst memories. “I didn't want to see him anymore. So I...” He pauses, and here he finds he is almost unable to say it aloud and tarnish Ori's image of him. “I had an affair with another guard. One of Dwalin's own men.”

His little brother is very quiet and still, until he finally says, in a very sad tone, “Oh _Nori_ , no.” 

“I wanted to hurt him as badly as he had hurt me. I was angry. You know how I am when I'm angry, I do stupid things, and it was a very stupid and cruel thing, I know that. After that, there was no reconciliation to be had. We were done with one another.” He sighs. “However, Balin sees an estranged marriage as still better than a divorce, and he's right, if he's trying to save face.” 

Ori sits at Nori's feet for a minute more, and Nori finds his own hands have stilled on the loom, waiting for Ori's judgment. When Ori stands, Nori's heart breaks. 

“Ori,” he pleads, desperate to save himself with his little brother. “Ori, please, it was so long ago, and I was so angry with him, and I was hurt, and -”

“Nori, I'm not judging you.” Ori bites his lip, and continues to play with the loose string in his glove. He looks very young, because he is, and Nori thinks he might have made a mistake, telling him the whole truth. “I wasn't there. I don't know what you were feeling...but...I know I've hurt Fíli very badly. Before. In Ered Luin. When I would not...I was very afraid of the way I felt around him. Of how much he meant to me. Of how much I knew he could hurt me. And I know...I mean..I know he was with...others...then...I just don't like...I don't like to think about it. And I...I let some others court me. We were neither of us untouched the first time we were together.” He shakes his head and swallows. “Sometimes people do things they shouldn't because they're hurting. That's just how we are. People.” 

Nori nods, and stands up to face Ori fully. “Little brother, when did you get so old?” 

“People do that too,” Ori replies, looking a bit sad. “Get older.” Nori nods, and thinks of how little Ori had been once, his skinny arms wrapped around Nori's neck while Nori carried him on his back, carried him home from the guild house, Ori half-asleep by then. He would hold on to Nori tight, even asleep, and when Dori would take him off, he would turn and grip Dori just as tight, never once waking. Even asleep, he knew who he belonged with, who would keep him safe, who loved him best. 

Nori reaches out and cups his face, bringing them close so their temples can touch. Ori grabs his elbows, and closes his eyes. 

“Don't stand with Dwalin,” Ori says, and Nori pulls back, confused. It must show on his face, because Ori clarifies. “At my wedding. Don't stand with him. He hurts you, and I won't let him do that at my wedding. You and Dori are just going to be happy for me, alright?” 

Nori can't speak, so he nods, until he can say, “I would, you know. For you, I would.” 

“I know.” Ori smiles. “But this time, let me help you. You've taken care of me my whole life, you and Dori. So let me take care of you now.”

Nori smiles too now, and wonders at when his little brother became an adult. Some parts of Nori wish he could have stayed little forever, could still be his baby brother. But a bigger part of him loves to see what a wonderful person Ori's grown into. "I think,” he says aloud. “You are the perfect Dwarf to stand beside our future king.” 

It's the best he can offer, but it seems to be what Ori needed to hear. His little brother smiles, and it's bright and happy and everything Nori ever wanted for him.

Later, when Ori is in bed, Dori joins him in the workroom, looking very much like he has a secret. Finally, he shows Nori just what the extra little present is.

It's spindle, a small one like a child might play with.

Nori takes it when Dori offers, and stares at it, confused. “He's a scribe,” he says. 

“And we are weavers,” Dori replies, and Nori understands now.

“So we are,” Nori agrees. “And he'll keep us with him, even when we cannot stand beside him in that blasted court.” 

“Yes.” Dori sniffs, and Nori thinks he might cry, but he doesn't. “Always.” 

The first time Nori saw his little brother, he was but a babe wrapped in a little blanket Dori had woven for him. He had been small, even for a Dwarf, and Nori had worried he might break him, but Dori had tightened his arms around the child, until Ori was secure in his hold. 

Now they both let him go, with a spindle in his pocket and blankets for his bed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth comes out at last. It usually does, in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written to [_Poison & Wine_](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fNlxKH9Jtmc%22) by The Civil Wars off the 2011 album Barton Hollow. If you listen to it, I think it explains this mess pretty adequately. Also coffee. So much coffee.

“Dwalin?”

Dwalin almost stabs the inside of his cheek with his pipe in surprise, as he turns to look at his visitor. It's Ori, his scarf up over his head like a child. When he lowers it, something in Dwalin's old heart breaks, because Ori is not a child anymore, is he? He's going to marry the Crown Prince in two days time.

His princes are no longer children either. 

“What brings you?” Dwalin asks, curious. The hour is late, too late for a social call, and besides that. Ori has never visited Dwalin on his own. He's come with Fíli a few times, but never by himself. “It's late.”

Ori visibly swallows, then says, “I want you grant Nori the divorce.” 

Dwalin puts his pipe down. “What has he told you?”

“The same lie you told him,” Ori replies. “That it was Balin who would not sign the papers. Only when I went to Balin, he was forced to tell me that it was not him. That it was you. That you have held this over my brother's head for _years_ and lied about it.” 

“This is not your business,” Dwalin says, because he can't deny a word of what Ori's said. “What goes on between Nori and myself -”

“I will be Consort to the King!” Ori snaps in a flash of teeth that reminds Dwalin so much of Nori. 

“You are not yet!” Dwalin roars back, his hands balled into fists so tight they hurt his hardened palms. “So you do not yet get to dictate what I do or do not do, little brother!”

“I am not your brother!” Ori argues. “You have never acknowledged me or Dori, so you have no right to that! None at all, so don't you pretend to!”

Dwalin falls back, relaxing his hands and taking up his pipe again. Ori is not wrong. Not at all. Dwalin has not done what he could have for Dori and Ori while he and Nori remained estranged, only the barest kindnesses. Money, and some protection, but not as much of either as was proper. He had been selfish and angry, and too far into the bottle to care about much but his own broken heart and bruised pride. 

After a few puffs, he feels calm again, or calmer. Enough to turn back to Ori and try to see the little lad who had once loved him, so long ago. 

Sometimes, he still searches for the one that had loved him in Nori's face, despite knowing that person is no longer there. Nori has not loved Dwalin in many years, and one day he promises he will accept that. One day, he will stop seeing that knot of thread in his sergeant's hair, will stop feeling like someone has robbed the very breath from his lungs when he realizes over and over again in memory that Nori had wanted him to know. Or worse, Nori had not cared.

Now he sees Nori's defiance in Ori's face, and it hurts too. 

“The lie was easier,” Dwalin explains, or tries to. “The lie let me keep my pride, let me pretend I did not still want him, did not still love him with my whole heart.” Ori does not seem swayed, but then, Dwalin should not expect better from a 'Ri. He still tries, if only because Ori once loved him too, and perhaps somewhere deep down he still remembers when Dwalin was his brother. “I tried to sign those papers, Ori. I have tried many times. But I cannot lie to the whole of Erebor, to the Maker, and say he is not my One, that I have stopped loving him.” 

Ori plays with the ends of his scarf twisting them around his knuckles. “You scared him. You ruined everything when you did not trust him.” 

So Nori has told Ori everything at last, has he? Dwalin had thought he might with the marriage so close now, thought Nori might finally confess as to why he would not stand with his husband for even Ori's wedding. 

“Nori ruined everything when he lied to me,” Dwalin says, his pride refusing to bend. “I was wrong to touch him that night. I have been wrong again in these past few weeks. I will not deny that. But Nori would not even allow me to apologise in the days after, would not let me make it right. Instead, he washed his hands of me and took another to his bed, not even three weeks after!” 

And some part of Dwalin had always suspected after he saw that knot that perhaps the affair was not new. Perhaps Nori had never been faithful to him. Why should he have been? What was Dwalin next to a 'Ri? Scarred and ugly and too big for a Dwarf, almost as big as a Man. 

He had always been in awe of Nori, of the clever weaver who actually seemed to want him, too much so. He had refused to see Nori's faults, his waspishness and his temper. They had not known one another well enough to be married, and if he had been smart, if he had shown one ounce of common sense, he would have listened to Balin and waited. Until they knew each other better, until they understood one another. 

Instead, they had rushed, and what had that done for Dwalin? Left him to hear from that Dwarf in holding about the parts of himself Nori had kept secreted away from Dwalin, his crimes and worse still. 

Dwalin had protected Nori, and he can at least give himself that much. He had protected his husband. 

Only not from Dwalin himself and his own sense of betrayal. 

He had not been a very good husband. He can admit that. 

“You frightened him,” Ori says again. “Not just then, but now. You hurt him. That's all you do. You say you love him, but that's not love -”

It's too far, and Dwalin cuts him off. “What do you know of love? You and Fíli have faced little hardship together. You met young, you knew each other all your lives. There are no surprises between the pair of you, nothing you need to hide. Your love is easy.” 

“Fíli doesn't hurt me, and I don't hurt him!” 

“Oh?” Dwalin queries, not feeling particularly amiable towards Ori after so much self-righteousness. “And when you were being courted by that blacksmith, that did not hurt Fíli? When you wore ribbons that Dwarf had bought you in your braids, that did not rip Fíli's heart out? If that is what you think, allow me to dissuade you of the notion.” Now Ori is quiet, his arms wrapped around himself and studiously not looking at Dwalin. “You hurt Fíli plenty in the years you denied your bond with him. When you would not even give him friendship, because why? You were frightened?”

Ori does not say anything for a long moment, and Dwalin thinks he has won, until Ori finally does speak. 

“I watched my elder brother suffer from the pain of being away from his One. From not wanting to be near his One. From _hating_ his One. I watched Dori mourn so much for the same reason. So really, can you blame me for being afraid of that bond and what it meant?”

Dwalin is beaten. “No,” he says aloud. “I suppose not.”

“Give Nori the divorce,” Ori says again, in a very final sort of way that is not much like him. “Or I will tell Fíli the truth, and ask him to force you.” He breathes out noisily, like his breath isn't coming in even, and when Dwalin looks at him, he sees the shine in Ori's eyes. “I don't want to do that to you. But I will not watch Nori suffer anymore. Let him go.”

He does not wait for Dwalin to reply, instead leaving as quickly as he had come, pulling his scarf back over his head as he does so. Dwalin does not watch him leave, instead choosing to look up into the top of the mountain, now a bottomless pit of black in the night when no lanterns shine from the tunnels and walkways. 

There are nights where he misses the stars overhead, the moon and the clouds passing over it, the sounds of the world around him. It has been too long since he lived in a proper mountain, in a real home, and he is getting too old for change. 

Ori probably means it. 

He finishes his pipe but does not go back in.

The next day brings him Nori, scowling like a wet cat. 

“You summoned me?” he drawls, looking around Dwalin's kitchen with a curled lip. “Love what you've done with the place.” 

Dwalin almost smirks. He and Balin have had little time to repair their family home beyond general repairs. The house is livable, but it is not richly furnished, nor is it even moderately furnished. The both of them have been reluctant to do much at all, too many memories in the old place. If Dwalin had his way, he would not live here, but Balin still wanted him close.

Instead of replying, he pushes the papers across the great old table, all neatly signed in the correct places. 

Nori frowns, and picks them up to look them over. When he keeps frowning, Dwalin is tempted to ask why, but as always with Nori, he is too happy to voice his thoughts without invitation. 

“Tell me, Dwalin, why the ink on Balin's name is as dry as a bone while yours is fresh?” He is angry, but Dwalin never expected better. 

“Ori did not tell you, I see,” Dwalin says, and Nori's frown deepens. 

“What does Ori have to do -” Realization dawns on his face and he swears. “That little brat. I should have known he would meddle.” 

“He is Dori's brother too,” Dwalin reminds him, half-smiling. “You should be proud. He managed to convince me to let you go at last.” The words hurt, stick in his chest and claw at his heart. He does not want to do this. He truly does not.

But Ori had said what needed to be said. All Dwalin did now was cause Nori misery and pain. He had touched him in anger in recent memory, for pity's sake. There is nothing left of the love they once had. It's all tainted and ruined now, by both their hands. 

Nori crosses his arms over his chest, raising his eyebrows in interest. “And how did he manage that, pray tell, when you have apparently been holding on to this for all these years? Hiding behind your brother's beard while doing so I might add.” 

Dwalin really does smirk. “I admit, somewhere deep down I had convinced myself you still loved me at least a little. That we were not yet lost from one another.” He shrugs, still smiling because that is the only expression he seems able to make. “You never said it, you see. You never said you did not love me anymore, so I could believe you still did.” 

Nori has started to look uncomfortable, and he puts the papers down. “Dwalin...”

“But it was not that surprising to hear Ori say you hated me.” Truly, it had not been. He'd known Nori wanted nothing to do with him anymore. 

It has just been easier to lie to himself. 

“I said those things in anger,” Nori says, almost gently. “I should not have said them to him.”

“Were you at least faithful to me until you left the house?” Dwalin asks, because he needs to know. That part of him desperately needs to believe that Nori at least loved him for that little bit of time, that Dwalin at least managed to have his One completely for that time. 

“Oh, fuck you,” Nori snarls, snatching up the papers again. “How dare you question me? I loved you. That was never a lie, and don't you try to turn it into one! You want to wallow in this tragedy, fine, do so, I don't care, but don't paint me as the villain in all of it!” 

“I only want to know!” Dwalin hits the table with his fist, hard enough it shakes. 

“Go to the stones,” Nori says, and starts to the entryway, clearly intending to leave, but he pauses there, reaching out to grip the framework. He glances at Dwalin over his shoulder, not quite looking at him, but turned enough Dwalin can see his face when he says, “No. Not once. I never even thought about it. And I did not love him.” He turns a bit more, and finally looks at Dwalin again. “I have never loved any but you. How do you not know that about me?” 

Dwalin has no answer. Nori does not wait long for one in any case. He leaves with the papers, leaves Dwalin sitting alone at the table. 

He begins to cry, like he did all those years ago when he came home to an empty house, an empty bed and no sign of his husband. When Nori would not return with him that first night. When he saw the knot in the other Dwarf's hair and knew Nori had no intention of coming back. 

When Nori left Ered Luin, apparently deciding the distance between them was not already enough.

They have done nothing but fight all these years, and Dwalin knew, he truly did, that Nori would never return to him, that he had lost his One forever. That his temper had been their end, that he had ruined it all. That he had failed the Maker, treated the other half of his soul with less than perfect respect and trust, had been inexcusable. 

He has done nothing right for a long time.

But there was that little bit of time, between meeting Nori in his guild house, seeing him and feeling his heart stop in its rhythm, and that night in their home when he had grabbed Nori. They had been whole during that time, and it had been good, hadn't it? Nori had loved him. 

Nori still loves him, if he is to be believed. That is some how worse, knowing Nori does still love him, but does not want him either. 

But he does love Dwalin. There is some comfort in that. There is more in a bottle, thankfully.

♦

Nori stares at the papers for a long time.

All he has to do is sign them. Sign them, get Dori's signature, and file them. Then it will be over.

Knowing it was Dwalin keeping them tied together all these years changes things though. He had thought that Dwalin wanted this as much as he did. He had thought he himself wanted this. Suddenly faced with it he cannot be so sure. 

Why had he held them together for so long? _Why?_

This does not make things all right. This fixes nothing. All the problems are still there, Nori knows that, but it's like he's looking at them from a different angle now. He has thought Dwalin no longer loved him for all this time, thought it was acceptable to convince himself that he did not truly Dwalin either because Dwalin did not...and it's ridiculous. 

It is.

This fixes nothing at all.

“Stupid, stubborn _idiot_ ,” he swears aloud, and tosses the stack of papers in the fire to burn to ash.

♦

Dwalin stands clearheaded again on the morning of the wedding. There is a chasm in his chest he does not think will ever close, does not think there is enough ale in all of the world to fill, but it hurts less this morning than it did the day before.

In time, he might not notice it at all.

Fíli looks very handsome and adult in his court armour, very much a prince. He looks like his father, honestly, and Dwalin misses him all the more, despite how many years it has been. He is sure Dís misses him more though, judging from the look in her eyes as she too gazes up at her son. 

Then Ori arrives to stand beside him and walk, and they look so old, too old for their ages. Ori does not quite manage to hold his head up high to the crowds watching the procession, but nor does he wilt under their shouts and cheering either. By the time Fíli takes the throne, he might be ready. 

Thorin and Bilbo walk ahead of the two, and Dwalin can just barely see them, Thorin's dark hair and Bilbo's light, one figure smaller than the other. 

Dori and Dís follow after Fíli and Ori, Dori's hair more elaborate than Dwalin's ever seen it, Dís shining with jewels. They too make a beautiful pair, but there are few eyes on them, as is right today. This day, the kingdom looks at their king, and the one who will be king. At the consort, and the one who will follow. Their present and their future.

It seems a bit much for a boy who used to swing a wooden sword at Dwalin, and another who pressed flowers between the pages of his books. 

Nori stops beside Dwalin, and when Dwalin looks down at him, his mouth opening a bit in shock, Nori is quick to say, “Do not think this means we're well. We're not. We need work, Dwalin.” While he speaks, Dwalin offers his arm as he should, and Nori takes it so that they too might begin to walk, leaving Kíli and Gimli to follow. 

“I signed the papers,” he says, loud enough he might be heard over the crowd. 

Ahead, the palace looms, waiting for them all. 

“And I burned them,” Nori replies. “But like I said, this does not fix us. And I could very well change my mind, do you understand?”

“I don't understand now,” Dwalin says, feeling pole-axed. 

“You are my One,” Nori says, keeping his eyes ahead of them, on Dís and Dori. “The other half of my soul, my one heart.” He blinks a bit quickly, and Dwalin wonders what Nori is crying for. There are too many options right now. “I am ready to start forgiving you. For all of it.”

Dwalin cannot quite believe it. So instead, he covers the hand Nori has resting on his arm with his own, and hopes Nori at least still knows him well enough to know that when he squeezes the hand, he means _thank you_ , and _I am as well_. 

Nori rests some of his weight against Dwalin in response, and Dwalin knows he does.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? 
> 
> Still un-betaed, warning you.


End file.
